


A Subtle Reprisal

by AvisPraeda



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Originally I was going to leave it up to interpretation over whether it's platonic or not, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Psychological Trauma, Revenge, but this is a gift to myself first so of course I'm going to cram it in, ienzo-centric, mentions of abuse, mentions of others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvisPraeda/pseuds/AvisPraeda
Summary: The war is over, and Xehanort is no more, but the wounds of a decade gone haven't begun to heal. Rather, they've festered.
Relationships: Aeleus/Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts)
Kudos: 25





	A Subtle Reprisal

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of some personal headcanons. I've always liked the idea of Ienzo carrying some baggage in regards to Xemnas, and I'm a sucker for some good ol revenge, even though this isn't quiiiiiiiiiiiiiite that. Maybe another day. I actually wrote this like a week before ReMind came out and finally got the motivation to fix it a bit so uh? If anything changes in canon blame past me for this.

“Is this really necessary?”

“It is. The final evaluation hadn't completed on your vessel, thus it couldn't be confirmed whether it was truly ready for use or not. In fact, we were in the midst of discussing plans on how to bring you over to everyone else in time when it happened. We didn't expect you to quite literally take off.”

“I felt fine when I landed. After that I was so focused on fighting that I didn't notice anything weird.”

“If you were capable of prolonged combat without issue, then there's little doubt that the vessel adapted to your heart perfectly. This is more of a preventative check given the circumstances.”

Ienzo's eyes flicked between the mounted screen and the paper, comparing averages and recording them in turn as the results filled in each blank column.

Mere days after the news of Xehanort's defeat reached them, Even insisted on bringing those possessing replica bodies in for a follow-up. He'd learned from Saix early on after his recruitment that his original creations borne from Oblivion's basement were... flawed, so to speak. On top of that, Even also heard of Xion's original struggle through Namine after their outing to the beach. To settle his conscience, he wanted to be absolutely, completely certain that they wouldn't encounter any difficulties beyond what a regular human would face.

Surprisingly, both Roxas and Xion agreed to show up without hesitation. Ienzo was sure Roxas at least would've needed a bit of coaxing.

As per Even’s protocol, Ienzo ran through several mundane tests, a mix of physical and internal, and was finally coming up on the end. While he was enamored with subjects pertaining to the heart, forty-five minutes of constant prodding and questioning clearly wore on Roxas’s nerve, and he didn’t wish to pester the boy for too much longer, despite him being a walking reservoir of data to collect.

Beyond the door, Xion's excited voice echoed through, all the way from Ansem's study. Even must've finished his evaluation and released her, now free to join Namine. Roxas would've been out there by now, too, but he needed extra precautions due to his early departure.

“Physical vitals are stable. I just need to observe how your body handles mana expenditure and restoration. Could you cast a weak spell? Preferably one that won't risk shorting out equipment.”

Roxas slowly looked around the room, then at the monitor suspended closest to the bed. “Uh. That... might be difficult.”

“How about Cure? Since we’ve already finished your physical examinations, it wouldn’t interfere with the data.”

“Oh, sure.” Without any warning, Roxas stuck his hand out, one keyblade manifesting. Ienzo took a cautious step back.

Did he _need_ a keyblade to cast? Or did Larxene really do such a poor job of teaching him magic way back then? He opened his mouth to ask and quickly thought better of it; there was a time and a place for Roxas to experiment with his magic, and this was neither of those. They still had yet to replace that poor, mangled security camera in the corner, Heaven forbid any monitors got added to the list.

The briefest jolt of anxiety shot through Ienzo’s chest when Roxas pointed his weapon up, staring at the ceiling as if it were the last time he would ever see it without a big smoking hole blown in it, but then he heard Roxas mutter “Cure” and green vines sprouted from the tip. Recalling what he had to do, he looked back to the monitor, watching bars and graphs and numbers fluctuate before evening out. Ienzo recorded the information on the page, plus a personal observation about the keyblade potentially being required.

“Okay... We'll take a few minutes to track your mana recovery, and then we’ll have covered everything.” He crossed the room for the umpteenth time, flipping several pages ahead to a blank sheet to jot down a note about investing in more tablets. Even made off with the only one still operational, and without it he couldn’t remotely access the computer, meaning for every single function that Tron couldn’t execute, he had to pace back over and do it himself. Which, given that Tron hadn’t yet been updated to cooperate with Even’s programs regarding vessels—another thing he noted down to do later—was often. Once he had the program running, he resumed copying down the data.

Suddenly, Roxas spoke up, almost hesitantly as if he’d just now decided to bring it up. “I should thank you. If I didn't show up when I did, Xemnas would've really hurt Xion and Axel.”

His hands faltered, leaving a blotch of ink on the paper. He was lucky to have his back to Roxas, with the intensity his face twisted to restrain his disgust. It should not have been unexpected. Of course Xemnas took part, and accounts from Riku and Aqua already revealed that the other direct fragments of Xehanort split themselves up amongst the groups. In hindsight, his opponents being ex-Organization was an obvious match-up.

_And yet._

“You were fighting Xemnas?” He asked coolly, pen continuing its tight scrawl as though nothing had happened.

“Both Xemnas and Saix,” Roxas clarified. “Things were going pretty rough for the others at first, but we turned the tables once I was in the picture, and Xemnas fled not long after. He seemed pretty pissed off about the whole vessel thing—or, well, as mad as he could possibly get.”

“I see. I can imagine. They were supposed to have the most prominent people in regards to manufacturing replicas under their control, but both of them defected.”

“I don't think he actually knew all of the details about that. I had to basically spell it out for him.”

At that he glanced back, genuine amusement pulling a smile to his face and completely masking the discord, polite and sweet. “Further proof that lacking communications carried over from our time.”

“Except now _he_ got a taste of his own medicine.” Roxas chuckled.

“In more ways than one.” His own brief laugh accompanied.

Out of the corner of his vision, he observed the results until the scrolling text finally halted. He gave it a quick once over from top to bottom, and instead of jotting down the findings, he clicked the pen and slotted it under the clip. Getting Roxas out abruptly became a top priority.

“Everything appears to be in order, so I won't keep you any longer.” He fully faced him to be cordial. “I believe Xion and Namine are waiting for you in Ansem’s study.”

“Cool.” Roxas slid off of the examination bed, grabbing his plaid jacket from the back to slip back over his t-shirt.

Ienzo called after him on the way out. “Please pay attention to your bodies. If anything seems out of the ordinary, let us know. Even has vastly improved at the refining process, but it's better to be safe than sorry.”

“I'll set you two as emergency contacts.”

He watched until Roxas disappeared through the door. Out of sight, and out of mind. The clipboard was dropped onto the console carelessly, the pen nearly bouncing out of the clip.

What he should've done next was copy the last of the information down and condense the bulk into a single, coherent report. Trim the fat into something more scientific, to eventually be squirreled away with the rest of Even's notes on replicas.

What he did instead was nudge the discarded clipboard to the side, gaze lingering on the inkblot that marred two letters, and set his phone down in its place. His fingers lazily scrolled through his contacts, down to the bottom of the list and back up again, a motion to keep him busy in his thoughts. There was hesitation, not in whether he should, but rather how to go about it. As significant as the matter was, he still didn't like inconveniencing others. Even if they did owe him a debt of kinds.

Xemnas was no more, yet the threads he left behind lay loose and scattered, and Ienzo never did like mess. It was why he still insisted on sorting through the rest of Xehanort's old work in his spare time, closure in its own way; stepping back to observe how much he'd already combed through, how much was done and never to be touched again once discarded, always instilled a sense of healing and peace. But he was beginning to feel like it wasn't going to scratch the itch in the way he'd hoped—it lacked _finality_. Xemnas was part of Xehanort, yes, but Xehanort wasn't Xemnas. And Xemnas didn't leave behind much beyond access logs and damaged, old security camera footage.

Ten years, with no way to repay his... _kindnesses_ , and oh, there were many. A decade long lie only scratched the surface. The repeated gaslighting through his final three years earned an honorable mention, though the broken promise laid out by Xehanort and subsequent replacement by Saix quickly after was his personal _favorite_ of the lot.

But Xemnas wasn't pleased with Roxas's return. The return _he_ had been contacted to help with, _he_ did the brunt of the work on across many sleepless nights. And now the itch ached.

He blinked slowly. They might be busy running maintenance on the ship Riku used for their beach trip, or taking a much deserved break. A message would suffice. He tapped the chipmunks' contact.

Do either of you have a spare moment? < 2:39pm

There, now he could go and get started on any number of things in the meantime. But he didn't. He stood there, hands splayed on the console, staring at the screen, fingers drumming against the metal. It was important, but not urgent. He could wait. For as long as he needed.

3:04pm > Chip here! What's up?

Ienzo picked up his phone to reply before it even finished vibrating.

I need to speak with Jiminy. Is he still sharing a phone with you, or does he have his own? < 3:04pm

3:06pm > He's still using ours. I can get him to come and call you right now if you want?

That'd be great, thank you. < 3:06pm

Back down on the console. Ienzo stared at it, through it, unblinking and unfocused. If Jiminy didn’t have the answers he sought, then who else? Roxas and Xion were automatically ruled out. They’d been pestered for long enough, plus suddenly grilling them out of the blue right after Roxas mentioned the topic of Xemnas would be… concerning, to put it lightly. It would be a shame to tarnish his new image over something so personal. Lea was there too, but, far-removed from his Nobody, the guy could barely keep his mouth shut around the kids. He’d probably blab to someone if he got a sudden call from another ex-Organization spouting questions about their old superior. And Isa didn’t have his own phone yet either…

Ienzo’s phone vibrated on the table, and it barely got three notes of the ringtone out before he hit the big green answer button. He smiled into the screen, just as polite and sweet as before, but continued to loom over the phone rather than pick it up again. “Greetings, Jiminy. My apologies for the abrupt call.”

If Jiminy found it strange, he didn't show it. “It's no problem-o. What can I do for you?”

“Were you with Sora at the time of the big battle against the Organization?”

“I was! I hid in Sora's pocket while he was fighting, but everything else I witnessed with my own two eyes.”

Thank the light.

“And recorded it in your journal?”

“Yup! Ah, I never sent you the updated copy with all of that, did I?”

“Not yet. If you could, that would be a big help.”

“I'll get right on it. I think I took the files from Sora's phone. If not, I do have a physical copy I can digitize, though that'll take a bit longer.”

“Thank you—but, before you do, that's not actually why I contacted you.”

Jiminy tilted his head and made a curious noise. The tip of Ienzo’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, chewing his words.

“How much of the encounter with Xemnas and Saix do you recall?”

“Oh, when Roxas returned?” Jiminy's face lit right up, practically sparkling. “Why, every detail! I couldn't forget a moment like that if I tried. I only poked my head out to look after Roxas arrived, but I heard everything before then, too.”

His fingers stopped their rhythmic drumming, and a spark of thrill ran through them. “Would... you be willing to recount those details for me?”

***

Lea swung by to pick up Roxas and Xion a couple hours later. The guards escorted them out to the courtyard. Since he was down there anyway, Aeleus took a detour and swung by the ice cream parlor one of Scrooge’s nephews recently opened. He hid the two bars in his sleeve out of an old, bygone habit as he walked back in through the main gate.

It didn’t take much effort to locate Ienzo. Holed up in the lab, as was his wont. Aeleus found he didn’t need to use the ice cream as a bribe to lure him out, as for once he all but leaped at the chance for a break. Thus they sat together on one of the higher balconies, enjoying their treat and sharing casual, comfortable conversation.

“It’s fascinating, really, how identical they are to any other human body. If anyone were to perform, say, a blood test, there would be no discernible difference. Now that we have some spare time, I really should delve into the rest of Even’s research.”

“Something tells me,” Aeleus said, pulling the nearly cleaned stick from his mouth, “that the process of creating a replica isn’t entirely ethical.”

“Oh, definitely not. I don’t see how he’d be able to create such varied organic tissues without already having different samples to work off of, unless he’s synthesizing everything. Even then, synthesis requires materials from Heartless and Dusks--two things that used to be human.”

“The way people referred to them as ‘dolls’ would make one think they’re made of artificial material.”

“Perhaps they were at one time. Now, however, based off of my analysis of Roxas, the bodies are entirely flesh and bone.” Ienzo paused to lick up the side of his stick to catch a drip. “Truthfully, I didn’t touch his vessel nor Namine’s before either of them reawakened. I oversaw the mechanical side of the operations. It very well may have been artificial, and the transition was one of the many mysteries of the heart.”

“You could ask Even.”

“I could.”

Aeleus wiped some melted ice cream from his fingers while Ienzo took his time polishing off the rest of his bar. Distantly, he heard metal clanging as far, far below, Dilan closed and locked up the front gates for the evening. Or tried to. Probably stuck again, judging by the volume. He huffed a soft laugh through his nose and leaned back slightly, placing a hand to his right, close to Ienzo. No further visitors, no further guard duty, and though Ienzo spoke fervently about replicas, he was in no rush to finish and return to the lab. The time was theirs to spend at their leisure, and oh, it had been so long since the last. Briefly he considered running back inside to grab a blanket to stay out with past sunset; it would be the first opportunity to gaze at the night sky without fear of any star winking out of existence right in front of them, and Ienzo felt the cold easier than Aeleus.

Before he could suggest the plan, Ienzo pulled the stick from his mouth with a soft pop. “Mmm. On the topic of Roxas, he shared something very interesting with me.”

“Oh?”

“When he vanished from the lab, he ended up right in the thick of battle. Apparently, Xemnas was not pleased about that.”

Immediately, something rubbed him the wrong way. Just the tone with which Ienzo spoke. The topic of Xemnas always was a sketchy one amongst them, to Ienzo especially, who spent multiple nights awake venting out the pent-up steam that gathered while he slogged through ten years of trauma, before he was able to speak of their once superior without grimacing. That must’ve been it.

“He mentioned me by name.”

Now _he_ felt cold as a chill shot down his spine, and he lifted his head to regard Ienzo cautiously. By sitting to his comrade's left, he could see Ienzo's smile unobscured, as polite and sweet as ever. Except it wasn't, because Aeleus _knew_ that smile from over a decade of experience. The smile Zexion wore when he observed his prey ensnared and cowering in his illusions, the smile Ienzo wore as he strolled out of the labs during those final few weeks before the fall, dark fluid speckled on his coat and reeking of something caustic. It always started subtle, _pleased_ in a way, and those unfamiliar with him were never the wiser. The most obvious factor came with the normally bright blue iris, how it almost appeared to glow regardless of how bright or dim their surroundings were.

“Jiminy filled me in on the rest of the story. It's... quite entertaining, actually, but I’ll skip to the most interesting bits.” He turned over the popsicle stick in his hand twice, then looked down at one of the flat sides, and the smile grew incrementally wider. “Xemnas heard someone had defied him, and he didn't immediately suspect traitors. He didn't even consider the _possibility_ that the one person who could reliably manufacture replicas could be deceiving him. Nor that the person who recruited Vexen, who in the past planned to overthrow him—a plan which he _knew_ about—might have ulterior motives.”

Ienzo smacked his lips, lifting the stick up to the setting sun. The dark “Winner!” embossed on the wood became all the more prominent. “No. The people that immediately jumped to his mind, who would _dare_ pose enough of a threat to throw a wrench into his plans, were escaped captive Ansem the Wise... and me.”

Hair prickled on the back of Aeleus's neck, observing the way Ienzo's brow ever so slightly dipped down as he spoke, eyes lidded halfway, turning that smile impossibly more wicked. Every warning siren blared in his head, jaw setting in anticipation. Despite this, he didn't feel as though he was the one in danger—the guard intimately knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would not ever be the target. Rather, it was as though he was about to be a helpless spectator to some terrible accident.

“It wasn't even intentional.” The laugh Ienzo emitted sent ice spreading through his veins, quiet and cruel. “I had no _idea_ things would play out as they did. I merely wanted to bring Roxas back and give him another chance at living like the rest of us. Had I known... well, perhaps I would've sent a personal message along.”

Then he leaned back, slouched in a way eerily reminiscent of how his Nobody once lounged on the Gray Room’s couches. A hand fell beside him to keep him propped up, right overtop of Aeleus’s. His fingers began to tap against knuckle. “And there’s more. According to Jiminy, mere moments before the complete and utter demise of his vessel, Xemnas _felt_. Would you like to take a guess at what it was?”

Aeleus shook his head slowly. While the obvious “anger” and “hatred” came to mind, any words immediately shriveled and died on reaching his tongue, collecting as dust that made swallowing difficult. He caught a glimpse of the frigid blue iris flicking unnaturally to the corner of his eye, watching without even the slightest motion of his head.

“Regret,” Ienzo answered, voice soft and positively dripping with acid. “ _Loneliness_. Right at the very end, stripped of his power and his cause, Xemnas felt _remorse_.” He blinked for the first time in what felt to Aeleus like hours, and his irises were looking away when the lids opened. “That’s... quite unfortunate.” His tone held no pity, no sympathy. Rather, it sounded like he was holding back further laughter.

Ienzo turned to properly meet his eye then, eyebrows raising, and that smile didn't budge. “Memories can be converted into data, so it may be possible to further convert those memories into something to be viewed. I doubt it would be too terribly difficult to talk Roxas into trying it. His account would be the clearest, after all, and I want to see for myself... _exactly_ what he experienced.”

In that moment he was staring at Zexion, sans the leather coat. Back in the hours following a mission, sharing the details of an extraordinary find in private, one that would benefit the Organization for months to come, as he jotted it all down in the report. So very pleased with himself, with the leverage it would give him over Saix for the Superior's favor. Meanwhile, his lexicon sat open in his lap, mirroring every curl and flick of the pen across its pages.

It shouldn't have caught him so off guard. Ienzo and Zexion were the same person, after all—or at least that's how the two of them had come to view their Nobodies. Just another part of them. Their weapons were regarded in much the same way, back when there was reason to summon and put them to use. Extensions of their true selves, right down to the names, a reflection of what lay beneath the exterior no matter how unsuitable the match appeared at a glance.

He became painfully aware then, though not for the first time, that Zexion's lexicon bore the title “ **Book of _Retribution_** ” for a _reason_.

Just as abruptly as it formed, Ienzo's smile dropped, and he returned his gaze to the sunset, fiddling with the popsicle stick before letting his hand rest back on his lap. His shoulders rose with a deep breath through his nose, and his sigh was long and airy.

“In any case, now that Even has his update, our involvement in that messy war is effectively over. We can shift our focus entirely on assisting the Restoration Committee with their final reparations. After that, well, I'm sure Lord Ansem is already constructing plans for the future of the garden.”

His expression sat peacefully relaxed now, no different than before. It was like the whole topic around Xemnas never happened, like Aeleus just lapsed out and imagined Ienzo's entire tirade. Any visual trace of the mask slipping had dissipated completely, but the silence left in its wake was deathly.

He vaguely recalled documents read in passing lifetimes ago about the darkness, speculation about long-term effects exposure would have on those whose hearts managed to survive long enough. Theories comparing it to physical scarring, or akin to prolonged poisoning, lingering in their being like a permanent stain. They never did get to record any results. He hadn't put much thought into it before, it wasn't his place to object, but now the concept seemed plausible, if not a little too simple to encapsulate their situation.

A catalyst felt a more fitting descriptor for it, further putrefying an already infected, itching wound.

Now it had been covered up again, the revelation brought in by Roxas slathered across it like a salve, and whether it would lead to genuine healing or continued festering was yet to be seen. It wasn’t direct, or big in any way, but it was something, and Ienzo had latched right onto it. Aeleus didn't like the idea of leaving the outcome to time, not anymore.

Ienzo wrapped the stick in the napkin it came with. Aeleus held out his hand to take it before Ienzo got a chance to stuff it in his pocket, his soft thank you a signal that he had no more words to share for now, else he would've taken the opportunity. While his companion rolled his sleeves back down, no longer at risk of turning blue, Aeleus kept his sights carefully on the town below, the napkin sitting in a fist on his lap.

And then.

“I could propose the idea to Lord Ansem, if you wish.”

Ienzo looked back up at him, surprised. He didn't meet the gaze, but from the corner of his vision he could see that familiar, venomous smile gradually hook his lips.

The itch was contagious, it seemed.

**Author's Note:**

> Aeleus has some baggage too y'know :3c


End file.
